


would you like fries with that?

by awkwardspiritanimals



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2014-11-10
Packaged: 2018-02-24 20:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2594657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardspiritanimals/pseuds/awkwardspiritanimals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Melinda May and late night chicken nuggets can’t help you solve your problems, you’re probably doomed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	would you like fries with that?

May ducks her head into the lab, “Let’s go.”

Fitz looks up from whatever he’s working on. He’s been spending longer nights in the lab since Simmons got back, and she’s not sure whether it’s making him better or worse.

“Where are we going?”

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?” he asks again, but he follows her down the hall as she makes her way to the lounge she’d seen Simmons sitting in earlier. As expected, the younger woman is still there, squinting at her laptop screen; she’s been working a lot of late nights as well.

“Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“Come on.” Simmons closes her laptop with a sigh and follows May down the hallway. Fitz tries to catch her eye; she smiles at him, carefully, and fixes her hair behind her ear. When they reach the garage and the SUV, Fitz opens the passenger side door for Simmons and then crawls into the back, sliding all the way across the seat to press against the door on the driver’s side, like he’s trying to give her as much room as possible in the small space of the vehicle.

The ride is quiet; none of them talk, and May doesn’t bother with the radio. It’s not a long drive, and when she pulls to a stop in the McDonald’s parking lot, she can feel both of them staring at her.

“Out,” she says, and they follow her across the parking lot silently. When they enter, May glances around quickly, assessing. The lone man in the corner is probably the driver of the semi-truck in the parking lot, and the cop at the counter is probably taking food and coffee back to his partner sitting in the squad car on the street. He glances at them when he moves to the side so they can order, but doesn’t say anything.

“What do you guys want?” she asks, turning to them.

“Chicken nuggets,” Fitz responds immediately, “With extra barbecue sauce and honey mustard.”

“I’m fine,” Simmons says, and May gives her a look that isn’t really a glare but certainly isn’t to be argued with, and the younger woman sighs, “One of the apple pie things is fine.”

“And three large drinks,” May adds to the cashier, who looks bored. He hands them their drinks and tells them their food will be ready in a few minutes.

Simmons and May fill their cups and find a booth, and Fitz joins them a few minutes later with his own drink and several little paper cups of ketchup. He looks unsure which side to sit on, until May glares at him when he moves towards hers, and he settles next to Simmons. There’s at least two feet between them, and neither of them says a word until the food arrives.

“I’m going to check the perimeter,” she says, after a few minutes of watching Simmons nibble on her pie and Fitz work his way through the box of chicken nuggets, “Keep your heads up.”

She makes one circuit around the building and parking lot before heading back in; the semi driver had left while she’d been outside, and they’ve got the front of the restaurant to themselves for now. May stops to watch the other two, close enough to hear anything they might say. After a few minutes, Fitz pushes the half-empty box of chicken nuggets towards Simmons.

“You haven’t been eating,” he says, not looking at her.

“Haven’t been hungry,” she responds, hooking her hair behind her ear. A pause, “I didn’t realize you had noticed.”

“I notice lots of things about you.” Fitz blushes, but pushes the chicken nuggets closer. Simmons abandons her pie to take one, and pulls a face after the first bite.

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah, you need the, uh, the, the,” he falters, gesturing, and May can see Simmons holding back until Fitz turns to her, still indicating something on the table.

“The sauce?”

“Yeah,” he says, smiling, “Otherwise they don’t really have any, um. They don’t have any, any flavor.” Fitz pushes the various containers towards her, scoots closer in the process. May wonders if he even notices himself doing it.

She returns to the table, both of them looking up from their food when she slides into her side of the booth again.

“You ready to go?”

“No,” they both say, in-sync, and then they glance at each other and blush.

“We’re not done with the, um, the-” Fitz starts.

“Chicken nuggets,” Simmons says, and Fitz nods with a smile.

“Ok. I’m getting a McFlurry then. What kind do you guys want?”

————————————

By the time she finally makes them leave, they’re sitting an inch apart, having finished off Fitz’s chicken nuggets and Simmons’s apple pie between the two of them. When they reach the SUV, Simmons follows Fitz into the backseat, and May carefully hides her smile when she settles onto the seat next to him. Fitz offers her bites of his McFlurry cautiously and holds himself carefully still when she nods off against his shoulder. When they reach base, May waits for Fitz to get out, turning around in her seat when he doesn’t.

“I don’t want to wake her up,” he says, when she raises her eyebrows at him.

“So you’re planning on spending the whole night in the car?” The thing of it is that she’s pretty sure he’d do it. May climbs out and opens his door so that he can climb out carefully, then reaches in to pull Simmons out. She weighs barely anything, and May regrets not making her get more food. Tomorrow, they’ll work on that; tonight, she just needs sleep. Fitz follows her as she carries the younger woman to her room and sets her down on the bed, pulling off her shoes and tugging to blanket up over her. Simmons’s eyes flutter open.

“Fitz?” she asks, and May shifts to the side so that she can see him standing nervously in the doorway, “Fitz,” she repeats, and he takes three steps into the room before he stops, looking unsure. Simmons pulls an arm out from under her blankets to hold out to him.

“Oh. I- You, you’re, um, you’re still pretty much, um, asleep, Jemma, I-I probably shouldn’t, um-”

“Fitz,” May says, and he looks up at her, “Get some sleep.”

“You have to- in the morning, in the morning, if she- when she’s- you have to vouch for me. That I, that she-”

She rolls her eyes, “Fitz,” he stops, “Get some sleep,” she repeats, and he nods after a few seconds, and toes off his shoes. Simmons, who had been watching the exchange without comprehension, smiles and curls around him sleepily when he lays down. May leaves with a smile on her face.

It’s almost four in the morning, according to the dashboard clock when she gets back to the SUV. She grabs the half-eaten McFlurries from the back, takes them to the kitchen to stash in the freezer; Fitz will probably eat his for breakfast tomorrow morning, and Simmons’ too if they don’t watch him. She locks the SUV and wanders back towards Simmons’ room.

They’re both asleep, Simmons’ face pressed against Fitz’s shoulder and his against her hair. May slips into the room, carefully resets the alarm. They both need sleep more than the team needs them to be up early tomorrow morning. She watches them for a few minutes before she heads to her own room.

It’s not fixed. It’s just not that easy, not after everything they’ve been through. But it’s a step in the right direction, and that’s something they’d desperately needed. There are more steps, words that need to be said and fights that need to be had. But for now, there’s an alarm that’s going to go off four hours later than it was supposed to and ice cream for breakfast and Fitz had called her Jemma without realizing it and they’re together.

It’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> So this isn’t a masterpiece or anything. It’s actually pretty crummy. But I just need May to big sister the shit out of these two. Because they both, unlike Skye, already have moms. And moms can sit up with you at the kitchen counter at 1 in the morning and give you a glass of water and moms are great. But big sisters are the ones who sneak you out of the house at 2 AM and buy you McDonald’s even though they’re hella broke.
> 
> Also, Fitzsimmons definitely need to have some kind of fight before they’re alright. They’ve reached that point where some things that need to be said can only be yelled. But you’re nuts if you think Fitz is trying to push Jemma away. Fitz wants to understand, he wants his best friend back. It was Jemma who walked away from the conversation, it was Mack who stepped between them and said the thing to Jemma. We’ve seen no indication from Fitz that he doesn’t want Jemma to stay, and until we do, I’m going to keep preaching this gospel, and writing fics where they cuddle. Sue me.


End file.
